To Catch A Fallen Spy (Brethren of the Coast Book 8)

by Barbara Devlin

  The repetitive ticking of the long case clock in the hall kept rhythm with Ross’s heartbeat, and each successive intonation chipped away at his demeanor, until he could tolerate no more. “Please.”

  “She departed London for Sandgate Manor more than thirty minutes ago.” Lance snapped into action, released Cara, and caught Ross by the arm. Together, they hurried outside, where Lance held the stallion. “The coachman takes Oxford to Holborn and then navigates Cheapside to White Chapel. They will exit the city via the turnpike gate at Mile End. If you hurry, you can catch her before she leaves the environs.” As Ross shifted in the saddle, Lance passed the reins. “Tell her how you feel, Ross. She needs to hear from you.”

  “Believe me, I will leave her in no doubt.” In a strange reenactment of an earlier scene, Ross heeled the flanks of his mount. “Yaa.”

  With Grosvenor Square in his wake, Ross turned right on Oxford Street and set a blazing pace on the relatively desolate thoroughfares that snaked through the sleepy, pre-dawn center of the British Empire. Light spilled from the windows of a few bakeries, and he darted by more than one paper delivery cart.

  Tradesmen and milkmaids dotted the landscape of Cheapside, and he dodged a few stray dogs foraging for food, but he never slowed his wild and reckless pursuit. Without care for his person, he urged his stallion faster, praying for some sign of the Raynesford coach. And all the while, he rehearsed one plea after another, hoping to strike an accord with his elusive and disillusioned bride.

  Charging through the fog, Ross glimpsed a large black coach, stopped at the Mile End tollgate, and he slowed his horse when he spied the Raynesford coat of arms emblazoned on the side. “Oy, hold hard.”

  The toll keeper peered at Ross, as he reined in and noted the drawn shades. “Good morning, sir. Are you traveling the turnpike today?”

  “No.” He slid to the ground and hailed a Raynesford footman. “Take my lead.” To the driver, Ross directed, “There has been a change in plans, and Mrs. Logan journeys to Farm Street, with me.”

  “Aye, sir.” The coachman dipped his chin.

  Perched on the banks of his Rubicon, Ross grasped the latch, opened the door, and discovered his wife fumbling for her handkerchief. For a brief instant, she met his gaze, and what he caught sight of almost broke him. “Oh, sweetheart.”

  “What are you doing here?” Struggling to conceal the fact that she had been crying, evidenced by her flushed and swollen flesh and tear stains that marked a solemn path, she tried to hide from him, but she lost the battle when he joined her in the rig, sat beside her, and pulled her into his lap. “How did you discover I left? Wodehouse was not to inform you until breakfast.”

  “That you pose the question proves I have not done right by you, and you forgot something.” From his pocket he fished her betrothal ring, which he returned to its rightful place. “I thought you might want this on your travels.”

  “Where did you find it?” She inhaled a shivery breath.

  “It was on your vanity, which I spied when I sought your company.” He cupped her cheek and stole a quick kiss. “Must have slipped your mind, when you departed in haste to avoid detection.”

  “I resent that, as I did not depart in haste.” She sniffed. “If you must know, I made plenty of noise, which you should have heard, yet I escaped with nary a protest from you. And you call yourself a secret agent.” Then she flinched, met his stare, and shifted in his arms. “Wait—you came to me? You entered my room?”

  “Well, it is my house.” Trailing his tongue along the crest of her ear, he pinched her bottom, and she shrieked. “And you are my cherished wife.”

  “Am I?” Trembling in his embrace, confusion invested her beautiful countenance, and she collapsed against him and burst into tears. “You finally came to me, and I missed it.”

  “If you prefer, when we arrive, you may adjourn to your chambers, and I will reenact the scene.” As she wept, he rocked, back and forth, and daubed her cheeks and the corners of her eyes with his handkerchief, before offering a searing kiss as an olive branch, of sorts. “My darling, I am sorry I neglected you. I am sorry I made a mess of our marriage. But, most of all, I am so very sorry I let you labor under the misapprehension that I need you not.” Indulging the last of her cry, he cradled her head. “Do you not understand why I permitted you to linger in the shadows with me? Why I sought a place on your dance card? Why I kissed you in the garden at the Netherton’s? Why I married you with no protest? Why I guarded you against Waddlington? Why I confined you to our residence?”

  Nuzzling his chest, she sighed. “No.”

  The pedestrian response well night slayed him, as he had razed her faith to its foundation. “I did so because I love you.”

  Anticipating a fresh deluge of emotion, she surprised him when she hiked her skirt and straddled his thighs. Face to face, almost nose-to-nose, she peered at him. “Say that again.”

  “I love you.” The declaration came remarkably easy to him, in the glow of her unveiled elation. “And while I am convinced I loved Caridad, in my youth, what I harbor for you far surpasses what I felt for her, as I am in love with you. I know not how or when it happened, but you own my heart. Never doubt that.”

  “Oh, Ross. I love you, too.” Twining her fingers at the nape of his neck, she covered his mouth with hers.

  It was as if the clouds parted, because passion sparked, crystalized, and erupted, as Elaine inched closer, and he noted her position suited a particular activity. Although it was important to tell his wife of his devotion, it was far more consequential to show her what she meant to him.

  Fumbling with the wool layers of her dress and the matching pelisse, he brushed aside the delicate fabric of the chemise and gripped her bare derrière. To his amazement, she scooted back, unhooked his breeches, freed his erect length, and lowered herself to take him in the most elemental method possible. As her tender sheath enveloped him in scorching wet heat, he groaned, but it was the relief in her expression that captivated him, when he realized his bride wanted him as much as he desired her.

  And then his suddenly not so shy wife bolted as a brood mare at Tattersall’s.

  Riding him hard and fast, Elaine gave him no quarter, even as he attempted to slow the advancing release, which she triggered far sooner than his pride would allow. Gripping her hips, he tried to temper her attack, but she would not be denied, and Ross surrendered to the most soul-shattering completion of his life.

  Minutes later, he resurfaced and discovered her suckling his lower lip, and he tightened his hold. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” Never would he apprise her that she shone with happiness. “And I want us to share a room, so you must always come to me.”

  “I guarantee that will never be a problem, going forward from this moment, but I shall engage the services of Everett’s contractor.” As she licked his neck, he reclined in the squabs and savored her sweet affection. “Remind me to send a note, asking for the information.”

  “Benson and Sons.” With an unutterably fetching grin, Elaine met his gaze. “I asked Sabrina the night before the wedding ceremony.”

  “Well are you not the resourceful little thing? I will dispatch a missive, this afternoon, but only after I dote on my wife.” Ross chuckled but hissed when she squealed with delight and shifted, teasing him with an intimate caress. “And if you are amenable, we can occupy your suite, until our new accommodation is renovated to your satisfaction.”

  “I would adore that.” A bump in the road jostled them, and she tensed her muscles, which re-stimulated his hunger and his body.

  “So it is not too late to start anew, sweetheart?” Directing her movements, he initiated a slow dance, as he could not resist her. “I have not lost you?”

  “Only if you promise to summon me with such terms of endearment, in the future.” And she bestowed upon him another overwhelming kiss.

  “Would you settle for so little?” Clutching her hips, he quickened the pace. “Because I ha
d thought to shower you with fresh flowers, bottles of lavender water, and Belgian chocolates, not to mention the odd piece of jewelry, with I prefer you model without benefit of clothing.”

  “Scandalous, my devoted husband.” Her giggle worked on him like honey on a hot scone, and how he relished the joyful sound.

  “Then let us commence our celebration.” In a flash, he pushed from the squabs and eased her to the opposite bench. With her legs wrapped about him, he assumed control of their interlude and thrust. “And I vow to begin and end every day with a declaration, that you might never forget how much I love you.”

  With that, Ross drove his lady, their lips melding, their tongues taunting and teasing, sliding sensuously, and they soared beyond the confines of the coach, journeying to the fanciful arena, where passion reigned supreme. At last, he yielded to the unutterable temptation she presented. And England’s most decorated spy, the agent who lurked in dark spaces, the intelligence expert who captured countless villains knew not how he and Elaine made it home to Mayfair, but they were together, and that was all that mattered.

  to catch a fallen spy

  epilogue

  November, 1815

  Waves lapped against the hull, as the Demetrius anchored somewhere in the Sargasso Sea. Standing at the bow, Elaine shielded her eyes from the sun, as it sank below the yardarm, and studied the approaching vessel, which presented a stark contrast to Lance’s elegant craft.

  A bit tattered about the edges, and with frayed canvas flapping in the wind, The Black Morass looked more like a floating ghost ship as it glided to a halt a-larboard. On the quarterdeck, she spied Jean Marc Cavalier, complete with the ominous patch, and waved a greeting, and he responded with a slightly noticeable nod, which brought her alert.

  “Good evening, my darling.” She sighed, as Ross hugged her from behind and kissed the top of her head. “I thought you were still asleep.”

  “Well, I discovered myself alone in our bunk, and that is no fun.” He nuzzled her ear, in an arresting display of affection she savored, and she rested against him. “You were wonderful this afternoon.”

  “Only this afternoon?” she inquired, as Lance’s crew extended a plank at the mainsail hull. “As I exercised you this morning, too.”

  “Indeed, you did, and I am your most grateful servant.” At that instant, Ross turned her in his embrace, concern etched in his swoon-worthy expression. “Are you sure about this? Cavalier is a ruthless killer.”

  “That may be, but he spared me, and he dispatched Waddlington.” Smoothing his lapels, she claimed a quick kiss as a promise of passion to come, when she got him back in their private sanctuary on the sea. “And everyone deserves a second chance, Ross. I must follow my conscience, and I believe Jean Marc will take the bargain. I know he is rough about the edges, but I tell you it is an act. He wants something more, and I would help him achieve it.”

  With that, she retreated, whirled about, and navigated to the waist, where the sailors gathered, but Ross caught her by the elbow. “Stay close to me, sweetheart.”

  Peering over her shoulder, she winked. “Always, my love.”

  “Lady Elaine.” Dressed in his customary garb of a crisp white shirt, black breeches, and leather top boots, Jean Marc sketched an exaggerated bow, snatched her hand, and pressed his lips to her knuckles. Some things never changed.

  To her surprise and satisfaction, Ross yanked her free in a glorious display of jealousy. “Now see here—”

  “So this is the fool who did not value the diamond in his possession?” As was his way, Jean Marc issued a taunt and postured for battle. “You left her vulnerable to attack, else I never would have snatched her from your grasp. Do that again, and I will never give her back.”

  “You dare threaten my wife.” Ross bared his teeth and tried to set her aside, and she thrilled to his show of temper but stayed him with a palm to his chest. “She sneaked from the house, through a window, and eluded my agents. If she ever does anything like that again, I will heat her posterior, and she will not sit comfortably for a sennight.”

  At that, she gulped.

  “You never should have let her out of your sight.” Cavalier gripped the butt of the pistol tucked in his breeches. “And if you ever strike her, even in lust, I will slit your gullet.”

  Now that sounded interesting, and she revisited Alex’s comments, regarding licentious provocation and spanking. Perhaps it was time for Elaine and Ross to explore new realms of seduction.

  Just when it appeared the two men would come to blows, she inserted herself between them. “Stop it, both of you.” In desperation, she peered at Lance. “Will you not help me?”

  “This was your idea.” With a wary countenance, Lance rested fists on hips and frowned. Out of concern, he posted two guards and forbade Cara from leaving their cabin while the pirates visited the Demetrius. “But I will not indulge you much longer. Issue the offer and have done with it, as I am not convinced the blackguard is redeemable.”

  At that point, Elaine faced her exceedingly handsome half. “Ross, you promised.”

  For a few seconds, her husband stood there and scrutinized the pirate, and Jean Marc did not so much as blink. On the verge of screaming, she stomped a foot.

  “Oh, all right.” Ross sighed. “Cavalier, my wife labors under the impression that you would welcome an opportunity to erase your past misdeeds and start a new life. Is she correct in her supposition, or have we wasted our time?”

  “You did that for me, Ma Puce?” Poor Jean Marc had so little faith in the world, and she resolved to shield him from his detractors, as he was a wounded puppy in so many ways. “You put your reputation on the line for a cadre of misfits and thieves?”

  “Of course, as there is more to you than that.” She nodded. “Whatever your faults, whatever your crimes, you saved me, when you could have dispatched me to my maker and sailed away, with none the wiser. Instead, you defended me against Waddlington. And in the heat of the moment, you opted to forgo retribution for your brother’s death, when you could have exacted revenge against the Countess of Lockwood. I believe you are a better man than you realize, so I beg you to consider His Majesty’s offer for a full pardon.”

  “A full pardon?” One of the pirates stepped forward, and the small company of buccaneers that escorted their captain shared whispers. Perhaps they could sway Cavalier.

  “Tyne, be quiet.” Jean Marc silenced his men with a curt wave, and Elaine prayed he would cooperate. “What are the terms?”

  “It is simple, really.” As Ross fished the rolled parchment from his coat pocket, she approached Jean Marc and grasped his wrist. “Read the document with care, and if you have any questions, let my husband clarify all areas of confusion, as I want you to accept the concordat, which includes your friends. If you will not do this for yourself, do it for them, but do not be so hasty that you reject what could be your salvation.”

  As anticipated, Cavalier rudely snatched and then scanned the somewhat lengthy pact, and his grimy, unkempt raiders shuffled their feet and shifted their weight. Then he reversed course and joined his band of corsairs. A discussion ensued, and some gestured wildly.

  “This will never work.” Ross drew her back to shelter at his side. “While yours is a noble endeavor, and I love you dearly for trying, you cannot reason with the unreasonable, sweetheart. And even if he agrees to the accord, he will never fulfill the requirements.”

  “I love you, too, and have faith.” Resting her head to his chest, she inhaled his sandalwood scent. “After all, I believed in you, when you had no confidence in yourself, and you did not fail me.”

  “God, but you are a beautiful soul, Elaine.” When she slid her hand beneath his lapel, she cast him a side-glance, and he winked and whispered, “I want to kiss you.”

  “Soon, my love.” She twined her fingers with his.

  “How I hate to intrude on this touching scene, but I have talked it over with my crew, and we have decided to abide by the stipulations.” J
ean Marc narrowed his stare. “But I do not think it fair to require me to perform good deeds for a year, without benefit of protection from the King. I am at fate’s mercy, if I am caught before I reach the anniversary and claim amnesty.”

  “Unfortunately, that is a risk you will have to take. Although my wife pressed for better conditions, the Crown opposed additional concessions.” Ross raised his a hand, and Scottie, Lance’s first mate, brought another parchment, along with an inkwell and a pen. “You must indicate your consent, and you may do so with an X.”

  “I can sign my name.” Cavalier scowled at Ross, but he smiled at Elaine, and she bit her tongue against laughter, as the barely ex-pirate was an intrepid character. “That should do it, Ma Puce.” Jean Marc gave the document to her, as well as a silver coin with strange markings. “If you ever have need of my services, present this to the owner of the Muddy Rudder, and I will come for you, but I wager you know that, given you found me.” And then he glared at Ross. “If you ever hurt her again, you will answer to me.”

  “That will never happen,” Ross replied, without hesitation.

  “Please, take care of yourself, and do try to complete the duration of the pact, as I want you to succeed.” While she suspected Ross would not be pleased, she neared and cupped Cavalier’s scarred cheek. “If you do this, the world is yours for the taking, and I do so want you to be happy, as I owe you a debt I can never repay. And although I have no right to ask it of you, I would have your solemn pledge that you will try.”

  “Ma Puce, find happiness for yourself, and the debt is discharged.” Jean Marc signaled his tars, and they returned to the Morass. At the rail, he waved. “Thank you, Lady Elaine, for believing in me. Know that should we never meet again, I will never forget you, and I will try not to disappoint you, but that is the only pledge I can offer.”

  “Oh, my friend, I will never forget you, either. And I will pray for you.” Holding Ross’s hand, she perched on tiptoes and shouted, “In one year, I will be here, to celebrate the end of the term and your triumph. You can do it, Jean Marc. I know you can.”